


Red Tide

by Delu



Series: Red Shores [1]
Category: Pocket Monsters | Pokemon (Main Video Game Series), Pocket Monsters | Pokemon - All Media Types, Pocket Monsters: Ruby & Sapphire & Emerald | Pokemon Ruby Sapphire Emerald Versions
Genre: Character Death, Gen, Nuzlocke Challenge, Sucked Into Video Game, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-07-18
Updated: 2013-07-18
Packaged: 2017-12-20 14:50:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,907
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/888541
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Delu/pseuds/Delu
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>New rules to an old game: Your Pokémon don’t faint, they die. You must attempt to catch the first Pokémon you see on a new Route, and only that Pokémon. Ready for a challenge? Press Start.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue: Press Start

**Author's Note:**

> A long, long time ago in a galaxy far, far away there lived a girl addicted to Pokemon. One day she came upon the Nuzlocke Challenge and thus Red Tide was born....
> 
> This is a self-insert of sorts (as many Nuzlocke are); I've been writing it over the last few years and actually do have most of it done up. However, the last few chapters have yet to magically compile themselves on my computer. I will, at some point, get around to writing them (as well as the sequel that I have planned), so no worries! This will not be abandoned. All right, I will stop talking now. Enjoy and please leave a comment or kudos if you liked it! :)

**Prologue: Press Start**

Snap on the Game Boy Advance. Turn up the music. Skip through the intro.

It was a routine I’d become all too familiar with in the past six years; my right thumb had developed a knee-jerk response to click the A button as many times as needed until the Pokémon logo appeared and a silhouette of Kyogre set against navy appeared behind it. I pressed A again and three choices appeared.

_Continue._   A list of stats from my finished game was after that; name, PokéDex count, etc. I flipped passed it.

New game.

Options.

I highlighted new game and my thumb once again auto-pressed A. I quickly flipped through Birch’s “Intro to Pokémon” to get to the beginning of my character sheet for the game.

Male or female? _Female._

Name? _Lucy._

_Let the games begin_ , I thought as my screen blanked out again.


	2. Chapter One: First Fight

**Chapter One: First Fight  
**

_Ugh, my head,_ I thought as I came to.

I opened my eyes – or, at least, I thought I did. I was surrounded by darkness and the ground was rumbling and bumping beneath me like aftershocks of an earthquake, tossing me into something hard and yet soft. My face caught on a corner of whatever it was after a particularly rough throw and I got a whiff of the distinct odor cardboard gave off. _What the…?_ Sure enough, I palmed my hand over the box and the grainy texture matched what my olfactory senses were telling me. _Cardboard boxes, moving floor,_ I noted a faint tang of gasoline in the back of my throat and it registered – _moving truck_. Relief brushed my consciousness briefly as I realized where exactly I was before the questions of _how_ and _why_ rushed forth. Then came, _where on_ Earth _am I?_ Was I still in the US or Canada or another continent all together?

At first, my paranoia sprang forth and a thousand and one frightening scenarios crossed my mind. Kidnappers, the mafia, child pornography ring, psychopath looking for some sort of sadistic thrill… they all zigzagged behind my blank eyes before some semblance of rationality took over from the smallest part of my brain.

_Firstly, nobody would want to kidnap me,_ I told myself. I had an unmatched set of divorced parents, five siblings, and a partially finished college education. Panic swept through me as I realized the new semester was supposed to start again on Monday and how was I going to do that if some someone was holding me for ransom? I mentally slapped myself. _No one kidnapped you; there’s no reason to freak out. Now, think of what else could’ve happened_ , my inner self rationalized. The kidnapping/ransom thing was thrown out so I could eliminate the mafia. I could go ahead and erase “child porn kidnapping” from my mind too, because at 19 I couldn’t really be considered a child. Psychopath… well, I’d put that at the back of my mind in the box labeled “unmentionable”; denial isn’t just a river in Egypt.

So what had happened?

I closed my eyes – I felt them close, so I knew I wasn’t just flat out blind – tried to concentrate on something other than the crazy thoughts still zooming through my head and push pass my emerging headache. Before I had blacked out – I assumed that’s what had happened, because I don’t remember going to sleep (though, at the moment, I don’t remember much of anything) – I was brushing my teeth. No, after that. I got changed for bed, turned off my computer, flipped my TV over to my favorite late night movie channel (they were playing a movie marathon in honor of Friday the Thirteenth) and then… Nothing. No, no, not nothing. I was restless, my body didn’t want to sleep so I grabbed my Game Boy Advance.

I gasped.

_That’s it!_

It all clicked in my head – the fact that I’d gone through the intro to my old Pokémon Sapphire and saved just before –

The door to the back of the moving truck opened and I was blinded by the intense noon light that poured in. At least, I assumed it was noon, as it always seemed to be in Hoenn, unlike the Johto era games where the light changed according to day and night. I blinked away the pain, for that’s all I really could do, and looked at the figures that were moving around me, grabbing the (confirmed) cardboard boxes. I stared. For the last ten minutes, I had been debating where I was and how I’d gotten there; then, just as I figured out that I’d been thrown into my video game (I refused to think of that now, I’d do it when I wasn’t surrounded by, uh, _people_ I didn’t know) the world opened up to me in the form of a cracked back door.

The first thing I was greeted with was a pack of Machokes being ordered around by a short woman and a plump man with a receding hairline and worn overalls.

And, no, I’m not exaggerating. I was literally scared stupid by the sight, not only because I wasn’t in Kansas anymore as Dorothy would say (nor did I have any magical ruby slippers), but at the sight of the Pokémon. No matter how many hours I played the game, bent over my Game Boy screen, no matter how often I revisited my ancient VHSs of the anime, nor the few times I’d looked at Pokémon cards could prepare me for the sight. In a way, I was glad that the first pocket monster I’d laid eyes on was Machoke. It was as soft a transition I was going to get, I figured, since Machoke are probably the most humanoid looking creatures in the entire series.

I took a deep, somewhat calming breath just as the woman – my mother, if I was going by the game, and it seemed I was – turned away from the cozy looking two story house we were parked in front of.

“Honey, are you all right?” she asked and I was almost startled to hear the words instead of having text pop up beneath her. “Lucy?”

It finally registered that she was, in fact, speaking to me and that I ought to respond.

“Uh, yeah,” I nodded, feeling ridiculously awkward talking to this person I didn’t know but who obviously knew me. “Long drive,” I lied. She bought it with a nod of her head before pulling at my (apparently gloved) hand and pushing me through the front door of the house.

 “Go set your clock,” she ordered without removing her eyes from the TV she had plopped down in front of.

“Okay,” I agreed, partially to get away from this strange lady and partially for some alone time to think.

I headed up the narrow staircase to the second floor, a little surprised (though I really shouldn’t have been) that it held more than just a vast space that was my bedroom. Instead, there were three doors; one went to a bathroom, another a large bedroom decorated in shades of tan, and finally the familiar layout of ‘my’ room from the game. I decided to forgo immediately setting the clock, because if I _was_ following game plot line, which seemed likely, then the woman would come up and I would have no time to think. Instead, I sat upon my bed’s white comforter, legs crossed, elbows on knees, and chin in hands. I narrowed my green eyes in thought as I stared into space.

By now, I’d realized that one of three things could be happening:

First, I was dreaming. In all likelihood, this was what was going on. After all, I remember playing the game just before I passed out/fell asleep and my subconscious always gave me the craziest of dreams, especially when I hadn’t been sleeping well which had been happening too often as of late. Between the stress of my final exam for my summer class, my upcoming forth semester, waiting for my scholarships to kick in, and my parents getting into screaming matches whenever one of them dropped off/picked up my younger siblings… it was really no wonder that my mind would supply a scenario as calming as Pokémon was to me.

The second thing that could be happening, and also the second most probable, was that I was going insane. I could probably pick any of the above stresses in my life, or mix and match them, or even defer to the psychiatric problems my father’s side of the family has had in the past in order to explain this. I shudder to think that I was becoming anything like Great Aunt Frieda.

The last thing, and also the one thing that I was ninety-nine percent positive _wasn’t_ happening, was that I was, for all intents and purposes, thrust into the world of Pokémon – my video game, specifically.

I let my mind go lax for a few minutes, enjoying the silence and the stillness that this new world held. There were no trains to rattle the windows, no angry neighbors yelling at each other through too thin walls, no rotting stink of pollution. The only thing I could hear was the faint scuffling of the Pokémon putting things away and moving things around downstairs and the nearly nonexistent chirping of bugs. A funny thought came to my head just then: instead of cicadas outside in the trees there were probably Nincadas, buzzing with energy from leveling up or evolving or something. It warmed my soul and I smiled.

_If this is a dream, then so be it. If I’m losing my mind, then so be it. If this is all truly happening… then what am I waiting for?_

I slipped off my bed and, for the first time, noticed what I was wearing. It was the same style clothing as my character sprite from the game: the black shorts, the dual colored gloves, the white undershirt, and the red and black short sleeved jacket. The only difference was the material they were made of, as far as I could gather. The black shorts weren’t bike shorts, made of polyester and stretch material, but some sort of light weight denim that I was glad to see breathed like it was Egyptian silk; the white undershirt was a plain cotton wife beater, familiar and welcome on my torso; the jacket was an amalgam of the two different materials – durable, yet soft like cotton, and form-fitting like the not-polyester shorts; the gloves were the same. I touched the top of my head and, sure enough, a bandana was placed over my short-cut hair. I brushed my long, black bangs out of my face and gave a cursory look around my room.

There wasn’t much to look at, really, especially since we’d just moved in (and I would be moving out). The room was made up of blank walls, with the exception of that clock, my bed, a soft rug under my feet, a TV and Game Cube, and an already set up computer. _Quaint_ , I thought before shrugging and walking over to the clock. _Here we go_. I took it off the wall and in a moment I had it set to 1.10 pm. Really, I made up the time, but something seemed to happen; the one window in the room had been lit with brilliant sunlight now had an overcast cloud blocking the star from view. Furrowing my eyebrows, I looked outside and let my mouth fall open. The world seemed… different, somehow; more realistic, possibly? There were clouds littering the sky and drifting lazily, obscuring what had been brilliant rays of light from view and casting marvelously shaped shadows upon the short grass that made the floor of the town. Again, there wasn’t much to look at: a lot of trees surrounded the village which could only be a few football field lengths in area and a few people milling about; the most remarkable thing was the large building about half the town length away. I knew that it had to be Professor Birch’s lab. Another small grin came to my eyes just as I heard the woman coming upstairs.

“Honey!” she shouted at me even though I was only a few feet away. She had this crazy smile on her face and I was more than a tad concerned for my well being. She tugged on my hand and pulled us downstairs. “Look,” she said enthusiastically, pushing me almost smack-dab into the TV set. “Your father’s on the news!”

And it was true. I sort of recognized the man standing in front of a large, white building; he, too, looked different than the sprite version of the video game. But he had the same dark hair and serious air about him enough for this stranger to be Norman, my supposed father. On the other hand, there were things that were off about him: the set of his face or maybe the confusion in his eyes? Something just wasn’t right. The show quickly changed over to a commercial (incidentally it was a public service announcement not to go into tall grass; astonishingly enough, the reason cited wasn’t wild Pokémon as I expected, but a ‘mysterious figure’ was on the loose).

 “Oh, would you look at that,” the woman (I certainly wasn’t going to call her “Mom”) said vaguely before pushing me out of the way of the screen and flipping the channel to what looked like a soap opera.  “C’mon! I need you to go meet the neighbors! They don’t know we’re here yet!”

Her yelling was becoming bothersome – my headache had dulled but was far from gone – and it didn’t really sit well with me. _I guess some things have to be different_ _from the game_ , I mused as I was forcibly pushed out the door and toward the identical house across the way.

I was blind-sided though, by something I wholly didn’t expect. At least, I hadn’t thought it would happen _now_.

“Hey!” someone shouted from my right and pulled at my arm.

“I really wish people would stop doing that,” I mumbled, mostly to myself, as I turned to my would-be assailant. He was a little thing with black hair and glasses that nearly covered the entirety of his panicking face. “Yes?”

“Help, you have to help! There’s someone yelling out on Route 101!” he forced out despite his red face before running us to the edge of town where a thicket of tall grass resided. I wanted to say something sarcastic to him – I had yet to meet someone who _didn’t_ yell in this world – but just followed the boy. Sure enough, when we reached the path I could hear the hollering of a desperate man not far ahead. Out of instinct, and a thrilling spike of adrenaline at continuing the storyline of the game, I ran towards the voice until I came upon exactly who I thought I would: Prof. Birch. It was actually a pretty comical sight to see the stocky man struggling his way up a tree as a puppy of a Pokémon barked up at him.

“The bag!” he yelled as soon as he spotted me. “There are Pokémon in there – grab one and HELP ME!” he roared with his eyes wide and frightened.

I reached for the bag and pulled the same Pokéball I always did at the beginning of the game.

“Go, Pokéball!” I pronounced as I enlarged it with a push of the center button and I threw the now enlarged device into the air and towards the offending creature. A spark of white light was released and took the shape of something small and lumpy.

“Tor, torchic-ic!” the fire-bird Pokémon chirped as it danced on one leg before zeroing in on the Poochyena. “Torchic,” it practically growled and I could see its eyes become alight with something fierce.

I could feel my grin and it was practically savage. I bit my lip to keep myself from being too hyped on my fantasy come to life. “Torchic, tackle!” I called as I clenched my hands. I vaguely realized that I had my left thumb pressing tightly to the left of my hand while my right one held down on the middle of my index finger. _Almost like I’m holding my Game Boy_ , I thought. _Old habits die hard, I guess._ I pulled myself out of my thoughts to see the brilliantly orange and yellow Pokémon still hopping around. I furrowed my brow. I didn’t have long to think, though, as the Poochyena did his own tackle. My eyes widened when Torchic didn’t evade and instead was slammed with all the force the wild Pokémon could exert.

“Torchic!” I gasped and made to step forward.

I stopped, though, when murderous red eyes glared in my direction, and I set my sights on the puppy Pokémon. I froze as I saw blood splattered across its muzzle and white froth coming from the edges of its mouth. _What the fuck?_ I thought as we stared at each other, I in shock and it in what appeared to me as hunger. _Bloodlust_. “Oh, shit,” I muttered. The next thing that came from my mouth was a scream as the demented dark-type leapt at me. As I ran, I spotted the Torchic standing up once more, and I yelled, “Scratch, Torchic!” remembering that this particular Pokémon didn’t know tackle. I was more than thankful for that moment of insight as my new feathered friend jumped at the canine after my blood and gave it a massive gash along its backside. The thing gave off a high pitched yelp before lunging for the fire bird again. I repeated my previous command, and the Poochyena went down, sporting another bleeding wound.

At that point, I had stopped running around and found myself in front of the recently vacated tree that Birch had inhabited. He was kneeling next to me now, breathing deeply and staring between the unconscious ( _Dead?_ I questioned myself, not sure I wanted to know) Pokémon, the Torchic I had used, and my own panting form.

“Hi,” I said weakly, waving a limp hand over at the brown haired man.

“Hey,” he said back and stood. “Thanks for that,” he nodded over at the Poochyena (I felt a flash of guilt and tried to shrug it off to little effect).

“No prob,” I told him.

“Uh, who are you?” he questioned me.

“Oh, I’m – “ I was cut off.

“We’ll talk back at my lab,” he said and started for the little town I had left not ten minutes ago. I stared at him blankly for a moment before I followed him.

“Tor-chic-chic,” I heard at my heels and turned to see the little orange bird following me closely. It bumped into my calves and puffed up its feathers before shaking its head. I smiled at it before leaning down slowly, picking it up with my free hand and steadying it with my fist which still held the Pokéball. “Chic?” it tilted its head and I grinned, deciding to carry it in my arms (and cuddle it, though I’d deny that). _Too cute_.

It didn’t take long before we’d reached the lab. The inside, I wasn’t surprised to see, was pristinely white and had random pieces of equipment scattered about with lab assistants puttering around. We reached the opposite end of the room, and Birch turned to me again. “So, who are you?”

“I’m Lucy, I just moved in next door,” I explained.

“Oh yeah,” he nodded in a vague sort of recognition. “Norm’s kid, right?”

“Yep, that’d be me,” I agreed, mentally trying to decide if that counted was lying.

“Well, thanks again, kid.” He paused and tilted his head to the side as he stared at me and the Torchic. “You know, you two weren’t half bad.”

I gave him a look that probably said, _You’re shitting me, right?_

“Well… okay, so you weren’t great,” he admitted sheepishly. “But you _did_ get that Poochyena which is an achievement for a trainer and a Pokémon who’ve never met.”

“Oh, I’m not a trainer,” I denied automatically, shaking my head. The Torchic chirped at me again.

“Really now? Because I think you take after your father with that fighting spirit.” He got a very determined look on his face that almost unnerved me; I was sort of waiting for him to start yelling… or pull me somewhere as everyone else in this world had done so far. “I’ve decided! I’m going to let you keep that Torchic.”

“Really?” I asked excitedly, clutching the poor thing to my chest until it pecked at my arm and I loosened my grip. I honestly was excited, even though this was the expected outcome. My face split into a wide grin. “Thanks!”

“Of course! My son, Brendan, is a part time trainer as well; mostly he just helps me out in the lab. In fact, he’s up on Route 103 right now studying some Pokémon. You might want to go find him; he’ll probably give you some tips.”

“Uh, yeah, sure,” I said. Honestly I wasn’t a big fan of the Rival battles in the Pokémon series, but I realized that in this game it was a necessary evil to start my Pokémon journey. _I am_ not _going to ruin this dream with bothersome semantics_. Another thought came to my head. “I realize this is a little late, but what was up with that Poochyena in the forest?” I was absolutely positive that that particular Pokémon feature wasn’t in the game.

“You don’t know? Oh, right, you’re from Johto,” he muttered to himself before reaching over to a shelf and pulling out a book. The cover read _Vesicular Stomatitis: The New Region Problem._ “There have been cases of wild Pokémon foaming at the mouth, attacking without reason, gorging themselves on blood and muscle tissue, and creating chaos in cities and towns all over Hoenn. It’s a very strange phenomena selective only to our region and no one can figure out what’s causing it,” he explained as he flipped through the pages, showing various pictures of attacking Pokémon that had the same blood-crazed, insane look that the Poochyena had. “We think it’s a virus, but it can’t be confirmed since all of the Pokémon attack so viciously… there’s been no live capture of any species to date,” he sighed.

His explanation brought about a brief stint of relief to the guilt I felt for killing that poor Pokémon, but it also brought up more questions than ever. Birch seemed to sense this as he handed the book over to me.

“Here, take this with you,” he pressed it into my hands. “I have other copies, and you really ought to get going; it’s going to be dark in a few hours and if you’re going to find Brendan and have time to come back and get your things ready to head off tomorrow, you’ll need to leave soon. If you have any more questions, just call me,” he said before nearly pushing me out the door to his lab with a jaunty wave of his hand.

I blinked and looked down at the book in my hands.

_Yes, this certainly is different than the game_.

And with that, I headed off to Route 101 once more.


End file.
